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<title>The T-Shirt by lonestarbabe (neverfeltlesscool), Pigeonsplotinsecrecy</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200309">The T-Shirt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfeltlesscool/pseuds/lonestarbabe'>lonestarbabe (neverfeltlesscool)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy'>Pigeonsplotinsecrecy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>High Tide Always Retreats [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:21:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,483</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfeltlesscool/pseuds/lonestarbabe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos finds an old t-shirt, and it brings back some old memories for T.K.</p><p>You do not have to read Running Towards the Tide to understand this. Running Towards the Tide is a more general story that shows different vignettes of T.K.'s life while this describes a particular scenario mentioned in the first story of this series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Reyes/TK Strand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>High Tide Always Retreats [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The T-Shirt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carlos was staying over for the night, and T.K. had told him to feel free to grab some clothes to change into, and if it wasn’t a bit chilly, Carlos might’ve just stripped down and have called it a day, but the temperature had dipped down a little, or at least, T.K., still a New York boy at heart, had turned the air conditioning down lower than Carlos was used to.</p><p>He rifled through T.K.’s t-shirts, looking for one that wouldn’t be too tight on his biceps, which was difficult considering T.K. liked his t-shirts to be tight and Carlos’ arms were slightly more toned. Finally, after digging through the shirts and trying to not make a mess of them, Carlos pulled out an old NYU shirt from the drawer, which looked roomy enough and comfortable for sleeping. He looked at it a bit puzzled. “You didn’t go to NYU.” Maybe it was just a New Yorker thing.</p><p>“Don’t touch that.” T.K. ripped the shirt from Carlos’ hands, clutching it in his own. “Why do you care anyway? It’s just a shirt.” Carlos was used to T.K.’s tendency to run hot and cold, but he’d been better since they started dating, and when it came to most things, like borrowing a t-shirt, T.K. was laidback, but T.K.’s green eyes now had a gray cast over them. Normally clear, bright eyes were now murky.</p><p>Carlos couldn’t help but the surge of defensiveness that came through him. “It was just a comment. No need to get pissy.” His voice came off harsh, and he knew that it still worried Carlos that T.K. could storm off any minute, but it wasn’t worth spending all that time wondering if T.K. was a flight risk. T.K. wasn’t going anywhere this day. In fact, he was unusually glued in place. Normally, he would at least pace if he was upset or fidget, but he looked lost until he realized that Carlos had spoken and processed the words.</p><p>T.K. rolled his eyes, his go to asshole response. “I’m not. You’re just nosey.” It made T.K. feel naked and itchy when Carlos tried figure him out like he was a Sudoku puzzle.</p><p>Carlos wanted T.K. to open up, but he wasn’t going to pull teeth to do it. That would only make T.K. clam up. “You could’ve just said you didn’t want to talk about it.” T.K. knew that Carlos wasn’t going to make him say anything, but the guilt at not talking about it gnawed at his stomach anyways because he knew that Carlos thought that T.K. was to secretive. It’d been a fight they’d had before and would probably have again, but today, Carlos knew well enough to leave it alone. “I just think it’s a little weird how you reacted.”</p><p>T.K. unglued his feet and walked over to the bed to sit down. A few moments later he felt the mattress dip as Carlos sat beside him. “I knew someone who went there is all,” T.K. explained, hoping to appease Carlos. He knew more than just one person who went to NYU, but of course, the owner of the shirt always would hold a special place in T.K.’s mind. He was the one T.K. could never scrub from his mind.</p><p>“I’m guessing you knew him pretty well if you kept this shirt after all this time,” Carlos commented, and it wasn’t prodding. He was willing to leave it there if that’s what T.K. wanted.</p><p>“It’s silly that I even kept it. He’s someone more important than I would want him to be.”</p><p>“A lover?” Carlos asked, and then took it immediately back, “No, you don’t have to answer. I know you have a past, but it’s your business.”</p><p>“A hookup.” T.K. looked down at his hands, looking shamed. T.K., who loved telling Carlos his favorite sex positions and talking about his sexual escapades never looked ashamed of sex before.  “It was just sex.”</p><p>“Pretty sentimental, aren’t you?” Carlos smiled at him, trying to lighten the situation, but his voice sounded hollow.</p><p>“It was my first time,” T.K. admitted. He tried not to think of everything that had entailed, but he couldn’t help the thoughts that came when he felt the soft, worn fabric under his fingertips.</p><p>“Oh,” Carlos said, realization dawning on his face. “That makes sense then.” A faint smile came upon his face. “My first time with a guy was with a classmate. Ronnie. I was eighteen, and we were sort of seeing each other. As much as we could’ve been given the circumstances. I thought we’d somehow last forever, but I wasn’t even out. Not sure he ever came out, actually. I loved him, but love only gets you so far.”</p><p>“At least he was someone you loved.” T.K.’s first time had been humiliating, which he blamed himself for.</p><p>“You didn’t love him?” Carlos asked. “Not even in a puppy love way?”</p><p>T.K. shook his head. He hadn’t even learned Alan’s last name. “The owner of that shirt… he was the first person I found who wanted me in that way, and so I thought that I might as well get it over with. I didn’t care about making it special. I mean, it’s stupid to believe that sex at that age will be that great. I half hoped I’d fall in love, that he would love me, but that didn’t happen.”</p><p>Carlos nodded in understanding. “It was awkward with Ronnie. We didn’t really know what we were doing, but I’m glad I did it. I still look back on it and get good feelings. It can be technically bad while still feeling very good.”</p><p>“With Alan, it was the opposite. He was good at sex, but it still felt awful.”</p><p>“That sucks.”</p><p>“Yeah, so this shirt is just a bad memento of that time in my life.”</p><p>“So why do you keep it if it’s so bad?”</p><p>T.K. wasn’t so sure of this answer himself. It seemed harmful to let it linger in his dresser with all the important clothes he actually loved, but he doubted he’d ever get rid of it. “My dad keeps a piece of one of the towers from 9/11.” Carlos nodded. “It’s kind of like that. It’s different than with Dad, but it’s still a reminder.”</p><p>“A reminder of what?” Carlos looked apprehensive but generally interested.</p><p>“That the worst day of your life won’t always be the worst day of your life.”</p><p>Carlos put a hand on T.K. back, leaning his head down and kissing T.K.’s shoulder. “It was that bad?”</p><p>“I was sixteen, so everything kind of seems worse at that age. I met this guy at a bar I’d go to to drink and look at pretty boys. I’d never done anything with anyone at that point, so I thought it’d be a good time. There, I met Alan. He was twenty-two, so it was stupid to think that it would mean anything, but I thought it would feel good. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, but he was older, so I trusted that he’d make it okay for me.”</p><p>Carlos’ eyebrows were scrunched as were his lips, a good indicator that he was upset. “Don’t be upset, Carlos.”</p><p>“He shouldn’t have been messing with a kid in the first place,” Carlos said through gritted teeth.</p><p>“I told him I was older.” T.K. was almost positive that Alan had known he was younger, but he wasn’t going to tell Carlos that. He couldn’t even trust his own memory; it been so long since he had thought about it. He used to think about it all the time. At first, it had been every minute, then every hour, every week, and every month. It’s amazing how wounds fade so even the worst moments don’t carry the same kind of agony forever.</p><p>Carlos wasn’t appeased, but he let it go for now. “He’s still a creep.”</p><p>“It doesn’t end there,” T.K. said, and it sounded like a warning. Carlos gave T.K.’s thigh a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“I went home with him, and on the way there, I was nervous but also excited. He seemed super nice, and I guess that’s why I trusted him in the first place. When we got to his apartment, I realized that we weren’t alone.”</p><p>“Married?”</p><p>“I don’t know what he and Adrian were, but when I got there, Alan asked me if it was alright if his friend joined in.” T.K. looked at the ground. “I didn’t really want to do it, but he kept telling me how fun it would be and that I might as well do it since I was already there. I didn’t know how to say no, so I told him yes.” T.K. laughed bitterly. “My first time was threesome. How slutty is that?”</p><p>“Oh god, T.K., that’s awful,” Carlos said, not sure how to respond to someone he loved talking about a traumatic, non-consensual sexual encounter.</p><p>“It was just uncomfortable and awkward.” T.K. wasn’t sure why he felt the need to minimize it, make it sound less traumatic than it was. There were times he still protected Alan’s memory and put up a little wall around it. Adrian had always been an accessory in T.K.’s head while Alan was the source of all the confliction. T.K. liked to think that Alan didn’t mean to hurt him, but whenever he thought of that night, a quiet rage filled the hollow of his stomach, making T.K. want to protect Alan and destroy him all at once. Mostly, he wanted to go back in time and protect his younger self, make little T.K. feel safe and loved and worth more than a threesome with two guys who only wanted to use him to get off.</p><p>“Seems like more than that to me.”</p><p>T.K. shrugged. “Maybe, but I guess good came out of it. It made me come out to my dad. After it happened, I couldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I just told him I was gay when he asked what was wrong. It made us closer, actually.”</p><p>“Good things happening as a result doesn’t make what they did to you less painful or wrong of them.”</p><p>“It’s fine, really. It was my own stupid fault. I should have used my brain for once instead of just jumping into a situation I clearly wasn’t ready for.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault, okay? You weren’t old enough to make that decision, and even if you were, it sounds like he and that other guy coerced you into doing it, which is…” Carlos trailed off wanting to word this very careful as to not to spook T.K., but there was only one way he could think to say it. “It wasn’t consensual.”</p><p>“I said yes, Carlos.” T.K. took a deep breath. “I used to think that maybe they were in the wrong, but I think that was just wishful thinking.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I always thought I was lying to myself about that night, warping the things that happened to make myself feel better. Like, I got the impression Alan knew I was underage, but maybe I’m just trying to make him the bad guy. Maybe the reason I keep blaming Alan and Adrian is because I don’t want to take responsibility for my own mistakes. It’s easier to tell myself that they hurt me, even though deep down, I’ve always known I hurt myself. I put myself in a bad situation because I was desperate for my dad’s attention.”</p><p>Carlos didn’t want to put words in T.K.’s mouth, but he also wanted to assure him that he wasn’t making a big deal out of nothing. “From what you’ve told me, they manipulated you. You were sixteen, you had been drinking, and you felt pressured because they put you in an unfair situation. Any one of those things should’ve equated to saying no. One of those two men should’ve seen that.”</p><p>“Maybe,” T.K. didn’t sound so sure. He’d spent years debating who was really to blame, but nothing good had ever come of it. At the end of the day, it still always seemed like his own stupid fault.</p><p>Carlos put a hand over T.K.’s which was still holding the t-shirt. “These situations can be difficult for people to process.” He avoided the use of the word victim. He’d encountered cases like T.K.’s before at work. He knew how psychologically confusing and traumatic seemingly-consensual, non-consensual sexual encounters could be. The police usually couldn’t do much about them by the time victims came forward, and society wasn’t always sympathetic. “Because sometimes even those who experience them don’t realize they’re wrong.”  </p><p>“Maybe that’s why I kept the shirt.” T.K. clutched the stretched cotton in his hands, and he had a sudden urge to rip it apart and throw it in a fire, but it would feel like tearing and burning a part of himself. As much as he wanted to put in the garbage, he wasn’t ready to let it go. “Why I may always keep it.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“I’ve gone through what happened that day a million times, and even now, I keep thinking that I don’t deserve to feel sorry for myself,” He looked down at the logo that had faded against the fabric. “But whenever I look at this shirt, I can’t help feeling sympathy for young me. It’s stupid, but it reminds me that for all the mistakes I made that night, I was still just a kid sent home in shirt a few sizes too big.”</p><p>Carlos put his arms around T.K., resting his chin on T.K.’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just felt the rise and fall of T.K.’s chest, being there for whatever emotion T.K. need to get through. After several minutes of sitting there, T.K. rose to his feet, leaning in to give Carlos a kiss and walking over to the dress.</p><p>With care, T.K. folded the shirt and slid it back in the drawer, beneath all the other shirts. It would always be there, but he didn’t always have to see it. He sat on Carlos’ lap and looped his arms around Carlos’ neck. “I think I’ve thought enough about that tonight. Why don’t you remind me how good being with another person can feel.”</p><p>And with T.K. wrapped around him, Carlos didn’t need to worry about finding another shirt. He was warm, and T.K. was safe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks so much for reading.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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